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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27633910">In Loving Memory</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tr00per/pseuds/tr00per'>tr00per</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:21:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,019</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27633910</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tr00per/pseuds/tr00per</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It seems that everyone can tell Harry anecdotes about his father, but when he asks Lupin to share some stories of his mother, he is surprised to find that there is one person who might be able to do so...and it's unfortunately his least favourite person in the world.</p><p>On Halloween, the anniversary of his parents' death, when his misery gets the best of him, Harry finally plucks up the courage to ask the Potion's Master for his memories.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In Loving Memory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Halloween was a strange time for Harry Potter. </p><p>He enjoyed it, as every Hogwarts student did, for the simple reason that the Castle and the teachers pulled out all the stops to make it a fantastic day to remember. The feast was always a treat, the decorations outlandish and the spirit in the castle infectious. It was a strange time for Harry however, because many of his terrible memories seemed to have taken place on this day. From early childhood he remembered the disappointment each year when Dudley would dress up in the fanciest, most incredible costumes and be sent out trick or treating while Harry was left home in his cupboard. </p><p>He remembered the burning feeling of jealousy when Dudley would return with a bag full of sweets and a tormenting grin. He would always show them off and brag to Harry, never sharing what he had and Harry would spend a lonely evening in his cupboard, wishing desperately that he could have joined in on the fun. Then everything changed when he got to Hogwarts because Halloween there was something everyone could join in with. But his very first Halloween had been ruined, yet again, by the horrors of a troll released in the dungeons. Harry had been forced to risk his life to save his friends and the memory of the rotten stench of the troll still made his nose wrinkle in disgust. </p><p>In his second year Harry had forgone the traditional celebrations to help out Sir Nicholas, the Gryffindor Ghost and had spent a memorably foul evening freezing in the dungeons at his miserable Deathday party. To round off a particularly horrid evening, he had then been accused of murdering Filch’s cat. Now it was his third year and Harry once again found himself in a rather low mood. Perhaps Halloween was cursed to be his least favourite day of the year. As his uncle had not signed his permission slip to Hogsmede, he was the only third year left behind as his classmates hurried towards the wizarding village for what promised to be a day of fun.  Draco had shot a mean dig at him as he left and Harry had pretended that it didn’t sting, but the lingering effects of the dementors staged at the Castle entrances and the looming threat of Sirius Black had pushed him from miserable to downright depressed.</p><p>But none of these were the real reason that Halloween for Harry Potter was a sombre celebration. He had learned only two years ago, that Halloween was the very night his parents were murdered and the memory of green light, cold laughter and horror still lingered.</p><p>So he’d planned to take his mind off things. Although Hogsmede would have done the trick better than anything, Harry figured that wandering about the castle might be an interesting way to spend the day. It was a curious place after all with plenty of secrets. But Filch had put a stopper on that immediately and ordered him back to his common room. Luckily, Professor Lupin had spied him moping, and so Harry had spent the afternoon in his DADA professor’s office, sharing a cup of tea and a mild conversation. </p><p>Professor Lupin was a nice man, he was friendly and welcoming but as much as Harry had appreciated his attempts to cheer him up, he would have much rather have been at Hogsmede. Lupin was almost succeeding with interesting dark creatures, tea and gentle conversation, when his least favourite professor, and possibly least favourite person, Professor Snape, had entered the office with a smoking goblet of potion. Professor Lupin, disregarding Harry’s desperate and subtle warnings, had downed the concoction without concern merely remarking ‘Disgusting’.</p><p>“Professor Lupin, you really shouldn’t have drunk that...Professor Snape is-”</p><p>But Lupin had chuckled, noting the look of panic in Harry’s eyes. “You know Harry, I find it awfully amusing that you seem to hate Professor Snape as much as your father did.”</p><p>“My dad?” Harry stumbled, frowning. “You knew my dad?”</p><p>“I did.” Lupin nodded, smiling thoughtfully. “We were best friends at school. He was a loyal, true and talented wizard. He and I were very close.”</p><p>“Really?!” Harry had exclaimed, eager to hear more. </p><p>“Oh yes. You look so very like him, I expect that is why Severus hates you so much. You see, he and your father were rather like you and Mr Malfoy, sworn enemies so to speak. Your father made it his life’s mission to torment Severus and Severus the same to your father. I remember one afternoon, James skipped a charms lesson just so that he could ambush Severus outside a potions lesson and curse him, as payback for a similar attack on him earlier in the week. This was a mild prank compared to some of what they did to one another but I think you get the gist.”</p><p>Harry had sopped up this information eagerly, his mind taking in every word and clinging to it as though it were a precious stone. The dead feeling in his chest was lifting with the memory of his father.</p><p>“Did you also know my mum?” he had asked Lupin, desperate to hear more about the family he longed to have known.</p><p>“I did, though not nearly as well.” Lupin smiled sadly. “No, if you want to know stories about Lily, then you’d have to speak to Professor Snape.”</p><p>“Snape?!” Harry spat, recoiling. “Why him?”</p><p>“Well they were best friends...for years...he could tell you a lot more about your mother than I ever could Harry.” Lupin explained, turning over his quill in his hands. “Now I’m terribly sorry to cut our conversation short but I really must get back to work. I chose a very unfortunate time to fall ill…”</p><p>Harry had left Lupin’s office with his mind buzzing with new information. He was ecstatic to know more about his parents but at the same time, tormented by the idea that his mother, whom he had idolised for years might have been friends with someone as wholly unpleasant as Severus Snape.</p><p>The feast had been a triumph, as usual. Ron and Hermione had managed to bring him back almost the entire contents of Honeydukes sweet shop from their trip and the Gryffindor table was raucously loud as the students tucked into fabulous desserts. However Harry wasn't enjoying himself, his mind was troubled and though he pretended to listen to Ron and Hermione, he couldn’t focus. Thoughts of his parents were all consuming and what Lupin had said about Snape was weighing on him. Under the lie that he was full and eager to jump in the bath before the rush started, Harry traipsed out of the Great Hall and towards the common room. His mind was distracted and his feet began to take an unconscious route until he found himself far from the bathroom and deep in the dungeons. </p><p>He was standing outside of Professor Snape’s office. He knew why his brain had led him here, it was because the man inside held answers he desperately craved. Harry didn’t remember seeing him at the feast and so there was a strong chance he would be inside...With a steadying breath, Harry raised his fist and knocked twice.</p><p>The door swung open to reveal the towering figure of Snape whose expression changed from guarded to hatred as he glared down at Harry.</p><p>“Potter. Why aren’t you at the feast?” he snarled, his lip turning in hatred.</p><p>“Sorry to disturb you sir…” Harry mumbled, feeling horribly nervous as though he had live worms in his stomach. “I was wondering...um…”</p><p>“Spit it out.” Snape hissed. “I haven’t got time to listen to you stutter.”</p><p>“I was talking to Professor Lupin earlier…” Harry began quickly, twisting his hands nervously and avoiding the cold glare of Snape’s dark eyes.. “And he mentioned that...that you knew my mother...that you were best friends at school.”</p><p>Snape’s expression seemed to flicker in surprise but  grew cold very quickly. Harry immediately regretted his boldness.</p><p>“And?” Snape all but whispered.</p><p>“Well sir, there are lots of people who can tell me about my father...but nobody seems to have any stories of my mother. I wondered...if you were best friends, if you might be able to tell me something...anything...about her.”</p><p>“So you thought it was appropriate to come to my office and request that I divulge private memories to you, Potter? How extraordinarily like your father you are. Demanding what you cannot have! Now get out.” Snape hissed, slamming the door in Harry’s face with particular venom.</p><p>Harry stood still for a moment, horrified that he had even dared to ask. He knew this would mean Snape would be crueller than ever, enraged that Harry had even dared. He felt so foolish and cursed his own idiocy. He turned sadly and made his way back along the corridor towards the entrance hall when he heard the sound of Snape’s office door open behind him. In spite of himself, he turned.</p><p>“Sorry sir, I was just going...” Harry muttered, quickening his pace before Snape could issue a month’s worth of horrid detentions.</p><p>“Wait Potter.” Snape called, stood in the doorway with his arms crossed. “Get back here.”</p><p>Harry sighed, knowing that Wood would kill him for bagging detention this close to the Quidditch finals. He stopped in front of Snape, trying not to pull any expression that might make things worse.</p><p>“Come in.” Snape stepped aside and Harry stepped into the gloomy office where the slimy jars on the walls seemed to stare at him like disembodied eyes. In past visits to Snape’s office, it had always been cold and unpleasant, but there was a fire roaring in the grate which washed warmth over Harry unexpectedly. The office was still dimly lit and Snape’s desk was littered with papers he had clearly been in the process of marking. There was a plate with a half eaten sandwich and a goblet beside it which Harry noted, wondering why Snape had chosen to dine alone in his miserable office instead of with the others at the feast...</p><p>Snape rounded on him, his robes fluttering as he came to stop before Harry with a very closed expression. In the firelight, his face seemed softer somehow.</p><p>“Your mother was a singularly gifted witch. She possessed great talent for charms and potions. She was not unlike your friend Miss Granger in that she was bright, studious and loyal. She was well liked by all, popular amongst her peers and had a unique ability to see the good in everybody who crossed her path, even the most difficult cases. Her trusting nature may have led to her downfall, but it was by no means a weakness.” Snape said in a voice that bore no emotion.</p><p>Harry gaped at his professor, shocked that he had relented on his earlier tirade and was standing before him almost civilly, speaking so calmly about his mother. He was also sure he had heard a compliment for both his family and his best friend. Harry was shocked but the words seemed to bounce around his brain like fireworks. He felt his heart swell.</p><p>“I am not unaware of your timing, Potter. Halloween night shall always be one that is cursed to all wizards, for it is a night that stole from our world a bright light; your mother.”</p><p>Harry nodded once, a lump forming in his throat. He tried to speak but had to cough to fight back tears that were forming in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry in front of Snape but the information he had given and the strange change of heart in his cold professor had touched him.</p><p>“Thank you sir.” he choked.</p><p>“Now get out.” Snape muttered, turning his back and sweeping out a hand which silently opened the door behind him. </p><p>Harry stared at his teacher’s retreating back with pure confusion, before hurrying out of the office before Snape could change his mind and threaten Harry with detention, expulsion or even death.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! I have ideas for this to go further and maybe develop into a bigger story, rather than a one shot! Let me know what you think :) xoxo</p></blockquote></div></div>
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